the life of a marine biology grad is hard (and cold)
by smileyfacebabe
Summary: All Kisame wants is to find his sweatshirt and get to class on time. They're learning about sharks today, okay, sharks. But no, absolutely not, Kisame isn't allowed nice things like a sweatshirt being where it's supposed to be and, y'know, sane housemates. Pity. (ItaSaku, modern/college AU)


NotesFromCaitlin: Okay, so, I don't really like this. I love the whole idea thing, don't get me wrong; I was giggling from start to about middle-ish. Toward the ending I start to grind my teeth and fight with the words. But hey, at least I'm writing, right? Going to try to finish something from the the Hobbit tonight, but I make no promises. Anyway, here's a modern AU where the Akatsuki are some sort of frat (I guess, IDK for sure) and everyone's a dumbo at college. It's also ItaSaku. Enjoy.

Dedication: Sonya, Sonya, Sonya! Because she did her very best cheer leading and got my butt in action. Also because she's The Best. Just. FYI. 333

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

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Kisame blinked at the hallway peg where is hooded sweatshirt was supposed to be. It wasn't, there was only a bit of wall peeking out between Konan's purse and Sasori's zippered hoodie, but it was supposed to be. Kisame distinctly remembered hanging up his sweatshirt the night before when he had come home from a study group. He hadn't gone anywhere that day and the house was warm enough to merit short sleeves, so therefore his sweatshirt should have been right there. But it wasn't and Kisame was going to be late.

"Anyone seen my sweatshirt?" Kisame called out to the house. There weren't any answers.

"Oi," he repeated louder, stomping out of the hallway and into the living room. "Any one of you jackasses know where my sweatshirt went?"

Konan glided from the kitchen, a cup of tea in her hands. She had a pencil stuck in her hair, pinning it into a tangled blue mess. She was wearing one of Pein's shirts and a pair of dark skinny jeans, mismatched socks on her feet. Kisame opened his mouth.

"No," she said before he could speak. "I have not seen your sweatshirt."

Kisame swore under his breath. "Any idea who might have?"

"Deidara was tearing apart the front hallway looking for something yesterday," she said, shrugging her shoulders as she moved past him and started to mount the stairs. "He's your best bet." He opened his mouth to ask where the hell that blond idiot is, but she beat him to it again.

"He was in Hidan's room trying to bully that idiot into helping him pass his World Religion class last that I saw him," she answered without turning around.

Kisame sighed. "Thanks," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. With a nod she continued up the stairs, probably to her boyfriend's room. Hidan's room was on the first floor, so he ducked around the corner of the stairs and made his way to Hidan's door. His door always reminded Kisame of a ten year old brat's, with ridiculous caution tape wrapped around it and a large sign made out of black construction paper declaring that, "ALL YOU HEATHEN FUCKERS NEED TO FUCK OFF".

To be fair it had been Deidara and Kisame who had put the caution tape on his door back around last Halloween, but the construction paper sign had been all Hidan. It might have actually been somewhat decent, except the only thing Sasori would lend him to write on it had been neon colored glitter glue. Glittery pink text just wasn't intimidating in the least. Kisame didn't even both to knock.

"Where's my sweat- what the fuck is going on?"

Deidara looked up awkwardly, his cheeks turning faintly pink as he stood in the middle of the room with only his t-shirt and boxers on. Hidan huffed from his spot crouched atop his desk, shoulders pressed against his wall.

"There is a perfectly rational explanation for this, un," Deidara promised quietly. It honestly wasn't the first time Kisame had seen the idiot in his boxers and it probably wouldn't be the last, but there was something really, really weird about expecting two guys to be talking about worldly religions and instead finding one pants-less and the one lurking like a vulture on top of his desk.

Kisame made a quiet noise of disbelief. "I'm sure there is," he drawled, sarcastic and slightly afraid. "And I don't care. Have you seen my sweatshirt?"

"No, we haven't seen your fucking jacket, you fucking asswipe," Hidan grumbled. He looked a little bit like a disgruntled cat stuck in a tree. Kisame didn't bother to hide his grin. "Oi, and no fucking grinning, dick-breath, this isn't funny. There is a serious fucking situation happening right now and you better fuck off before I hurt you."

"A serious situation that requires Deidara to be pants-less and you to be atop your desk," Kisame repeated. He honestly didn't care, but the temptation was a bit too much. "Now this I gotta hear."

"There was a spider, un," Deidara snapped. He crossed his arms over his chest, glowering up at the tall man in the doorway.

"A really fucking big spider," Hidan interjected, nodding. His hair was ruffled somewhat, making the earlier "angry cat in a tree image" even more relatable, like his fur was all fluffed in annoyance.

"So you took off your pants?"

"Will you forget about my pants," Deidara shouted, throwing his hands in the air. "The pants aren't important! What's important is there is a big spider in the room and it crawled up my pants leg and then disappeared, which means it could be anywhere, un!"

"A big spider crawled up your pants legs, so you took them off," Kisame repeated blankly. He glanced at Hidan, peering at the way the other man was oh so carefully positioned against the wall. The situation was made even more amusing because the usually put together religion major was wearing a worn thin pair of sweatpants and a bleached out shirt that Kisame knew what supposed to be red, but had long since faded to pink.

"Why didn't you just squish it," he asked, completely distracted by their ridiculousness.

"_Squish it_," the two men all but shrieked. There was horror writ clearly across both of their faces. "It was huge!"

Kisame blinked. "Uh-huh," he said. "Never mind. I'm just going to leave now and let you guys get back to finding that spider."

There were a few shouts at him as he closed the door, something about _don't leave it might come back Kisame no _and _fucking asswipe I'll fucking kill you get back here and fucking help us you sick fucking bastard_, but becoming those two idiot's go-to spider killer had never been one of Kisame's dreams. All he wanted was his sweatshirt, but apparently that was too much to ask for. He pulled out his phone and checked the time.

He had ten minutes to get to the first lecture of the day. It took eight minutes to cross campus to the marine biology department. If he didn't find that sweatshirt soon he was going to be walking through the snow in nothing but his shirt sleeves.

"But we're studying sharks today," he grumbled down at the phone. The phone said nothing back, the screen going dark when he didn't press any more of its buttons. "Sharks," he repeated anyway, as if this would change anything.

"Are you talking to your phone?"

"No," Kisame grumbled. He shoved the device back in his jeans pockets and turned around. "Have you seen my sweatshirt?"

Sasori shook his head, red hair flopping against his paint smeared cheek. There was something like sawdust in his hair and he was carrying boxes filled with little wooden figures. Kisame held back a shudder.

Puppets were pretty freaking creepy. People with obsessions revolving puppets? Certifiably insane in Kisame's book. But hey, what did he know? He apparently talked to his phone and misplaced sweatshirts.

"Have you seen my sweatshirt," Kisame asked tiredly. Sasori blinked for a second, nose scrunching up a little bit as he thought.

"It was in the hall when I left," he said finally. "Don't you have another jacket?"

"Some freak stabbed at me with a kitchen knife at the last party we went to, remember," Kisame prompted. "It got ruined."

Sasori made a noise that was probably supposed to be thoughtful, but instead just came out extremely disinterested. "Right," he repeated. He made to sidestep Kisame, who shuffled to the side reluctantly. "You probably should have let that guy stab Hidan."

"No kidding," the larger man grumbled. He sighed, shrugging his shoulders. Sasori quirked an eyebrow at him, but seemed to have no further sympathy. He disappeared down the hallway without another word, box full of creepy puppets clutched to his chest. Kisame checked his phone again. He had eight minutes until his class started. He needed to leave.

With a sigh Kisame returned to the hallway where his sweatshirt was supposed to be and grabbed his backpack. He didn't want to, but he didn't have much choice. He'd just have to brave the cold. So what if he got hypothermia? So what if his eyeballs froze in his head and had to be replaced with bionic eyes? So what if he-

The front door swung open and hit his outstretched hand. Kisame drew back with a small shout of pain, fireworks racing along the nerves to his knuckles. Someone spoke, but he was too busy stuffing his abused fingers into his mouth, tears springing unexpectedly to his eyes.

He should have stayed in bed this morning. Not even a lecture on sharks was worth this pain.

"Oh my god," Sakura shrieked. She was standing in the doorway, letting in an entire tundra's worth of freezing air. Kisame stumbled back to let her past him, falling back against the hallway wall. Sakura stumbled in after him, kicking blindly at the front door to get it closed. There was a small pause before the small pre-med student scoffed loudly, muttered, "No, not you, pig," under her breath, and took a step forward. Kisame lifted his head and froze.

"You," he said.

"What," Sakura said, distracted. "No, Pig, shut up, okay, Kisame's trying to say something." She wrinkled her nose at something her childhood best friend was saying before pulling an earbud out of her ear and tilting her head at Kisame.

"Shouldn't you be heading to class," she asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. He blinked at her, gobsmacked, and her expression went funny.

"O-kay," she drew out, replacing her earbud for a second. "Hey, Ino, I gotta go. Itachi's friend is being mega weird. No, not the blond one; the one with blue spiked hair. Yeah, the shark freak."

"Shark freak," Kisame snapped, breaking out of his daze. "That's rich coming from you, you goddamn pink monstrosity," he grumbled, drawing back up to his full height. The 5'4" woman rolled her eyes at him, mouthing _sorry, mister sensitive_ with something just short of an impish grin. She gave a short little laugh before saying goodbye to her friend once more and then she pulled the earbud out of her ear for good, dropping it to dangle down to her hip.

"So," she said, eying him with confusion. "What's up?"

Kisame fought the urge to strangle her. Itachi wouldn't be pleased if he came back from his literature lecture to find his girlfriend had been killed. He took a deep breath and fought for patience.

"You're going to be late for your class," Sakura said patiently. Kisame deflated.

"I know," he groaned. "I would have left ten minutes ago, but some short little brat decided to steal my sweatshirt without asking."

Sakura blinked before promptly turning the same pale color as her lip gloss. "Oh my god," she shuttered, blinking. "I'm sorry! Itachi took his jacket and his car and my jacket was in the backseat and I thought I was going to be back before you had to leave but I got distracted because Sasuke and Naruto are in town and we had lunch and they started fighting in the café and I had to go drop off a paper at my TA's office and-"

"Sakura," Kisame said in a voice bordering on flat out whining. "Please just give me my sweatshirt. We're learning about sharks today."

Sakura's stumbling apology drew to a short stop. Her face contorted briefly. "You really do have an obsession with sharks," she mumbled quietly. At his desperate glare she dropped her backpack at her side and started to wriggle out of the neon blue sweatshirt, which was about six sizes too big for her. She looked ridiculous, but it was one of her terrible habits. He should have known she'd swiped his clothing the minute it had gone missing, since she'd been doing the same thing to everyone in the house since Itachi had brought her into their little bubble. The pink haired pre-med student quickly became a flailed tangled mass of slim limbs, warm cloth, and bright green earbuds.

Kisame took a quick picture and sent it via Snapchat to Itachi. The raven haired Literature major took great joys in his girlfriend's mishaps and it had become something of a habit to send him pictures of her inhabiting their house when he was in class. The stone-faced bastard would enjoy the picture and by the time the image was sent Sakura was out of his sweatshirt, apologetic smile stretched across her lips, and he could finally go to class.

"Itachi keeps a spare jacket in his closet," Kisame said, reaching for the front door. "Please remember that next time." He started to rush out the door before he paused. "Also, don't go in Hidan's room. He and Deidara are having happy fun times minus pants."

Sakura blinked. "Okay, um. Thanks for the warning…?"

Kisame nodded seriously so that she couldn't tell if he was joking before rushing out the door and down the porch. He was lucky that their house was on one of the streets around campus, but it was unfortunately on the other side of the campus from the building he needed. He yanked his sweatshirt over his head, careless of the fact it trapped his backpack strap on his shoulder, and took off in a run the second he could see.

He paid for the "happy fun times" comments later, when his phone blared out with a recording of the "Fish are friends, not food" part of Nemo. He winced as all the eyes in the lecture hall swung to look at him before he scrambled quietly for his phone, mumbling out apologies to his professor. He glanced briefly at his screen, only half reading the text message from Sakura.

_I thought they were making out or something you didn't tell me there was a spider how could you do this to me I trusted to you Kisame you're dead do you hear me you're so fucking dead to me I'm going to kill you I'm trapped in here with them help oh god oh god oh GOD HOW COULD YOU BE SO CRUEL?_

Kisame considered replying, but in the end he just held down the power button on his phone and went back to his notes. Sweatshirt stealers reaped what they had sown. Itachi would probably go save her anyway.


End file.
